


The Quilt

by AJWmagickl



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Desus Writing Group, M/M, Sexual tension but no real smut, jesus has a bit of a fetish, sexy quilting?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8886502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJWmagickl/pseuds/AJWmagickl
Summary: Daryl Dixon has a new hobby, and it's driving Jesus crazy. In a good way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is for DWG Christmas bingo prompt: Quilt
> 
> Just a little bit of Daryl being cluelessly sexy and Jesus discovering a fetish...
> 
> Unbeta'd & just thrown out into the fanfic world with nary a concern for its well-being.

Daryl has a new hobby, and Jesus is so turned on he can barely speak to the hunter without his pants tenting embarrassingly, which is extra awkward because they aren't living in their trailer right now, they're in the mansion at Hilltop with every single other person that lives there, riding out a blizzard like one big happy family. 

But Jesus isn't happy, which is throwing everyone off. They depend on his calm demeanor to see them through crises both great and small, and now he's testy and sarcastic and downright grumpy. 

Most of the residents blame Daryl, and they're right to do so. But Jesus' grouchy demeanor isn't because Daryl's temperament is rubbing off on him, it's because Daryl has taken up sewing. 

And there's something...something Jesus just can't quite put his finger on...something so...HOT...about a surly redneck with arms like oak trees and thick calloused fingers,  
so painstakingly stitching pieces of random fabric together to make a quilt for Maggie's baby. 

Jesus just has to leave the room when Daryl sticks his tongue out the side of his mouth and holds it just so, as if it's actually gonna help that thread go through the eye of that needle he's squinting to see. 

Glasses. Maybe Daryl needs sewing glasses. And that thought sends warm bubbly tingles along Jesus' over-sensitized nervous system and straight to his groin. 

Fuck. No more thinking of Daryl in glasses. Or sewing. Or Daryl in glasses sewing. Which of course, makes Jesus think only of Daryl wearing glasses while he's sewing and Jesus doesn't know why or how that turns him on more than anything in the world but it fucking does. 

And here they are, stuck in Barrington House with a billion other people, and they can't fuck because there's no place to go, and Jesus is pretty sure he just told a nine year old girl to "grow a pair" when she complained about being bored. 

And that does it, something's gotta give. 

Daryl is tucked into a chair by the fire in the bedroom they've been sharing with Enid, Sasha, Maggie and Tara, a thick swath of fabric draped across his lap, squares and scraps littering the floor as he peers carefully at a particularly tricky corner he's stitching, when Jesus bursts into the room. 

"OUT!" The scout yells, intent on clearing the room so he can set a few things straight with Daryl regarding why he has to immediately cease & desist all sewing activities until they get back to their trailer. But no one else is there, just Daryl and Jesus and the quiet crackle of the flames. 

Jesus might've been embarrassed, what with the way Daryl has stopped mid-stitch and is peering at him over the dark frames of his glasses, but.

"HOLY FUCK ARE THOSE GLASSES?!!" Jesus simply can not move. 

"Yeah, I couldn't see ta thread th' needle." says Daryl as if it's the most obvious answer to the most obvious question ever asked. His brow furrows as he lifts his head and blinks his baby blues at Jesus in confusion. "What the hell is wrong wit'cha?"

"You're sewing." Jesus widens his stance and folds his arms in a "what have you got to say for yourself, mister?" way. 

Daryl blinks. 

"You're sewing!" Jesus enunciates this time, as if that would help explain things, and waves his arms about in frustration. "With glasses on! Sew-ing-with-glasses-on!" He taps his foot for emphasis. 

"I-need-ed-them-ta-see!" Daryl's volume and sharply punctuated words are clearly meant to match Jesus', but his expression suggests that he's seriously questioning the younger man's sanity. 

Jesus leans forward, stretching his arms toward Daryl dramatically. "Whyyyyy are you sewing?! It's making me crazy!" Straightening, he starts to pace. "I get it, the baby's gonna need a blanket and you'd do anything for Maggie and there's a blizzard so you can't hunt or work on your bike or go on runs but it's turning me on so much and I don't know why but..."

"Paul."

"WHAT?!" Jesus turns on his heel and levels a glare at the hunter. 

Daryl sets the needle and thread aside. "I finished the baby's quilt days ago. This one's for us."

He stands, gripping the edge of the fabric and wafting it into the aIr. It settles with a flourish on the floor by the fireplace, an imperfect plane of mis-matched stitches and squares, finished except for one ragged corner. 

Jesus' eyes move from the quilt to Daryl, to the quilt to Daryl, to the quilt to...

"Paul!"

"Hnhh?" 

"Lock the door." 

"Will you...would you...uhhh" Jesus pleads for understanding with his eyes as words fail him. 

Daryl smirks. "I'll keep the damn glasses on."

**Author's Note:**

> I do love Jesus being a little nuts because he's always so in control. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
